


The Best Laid Plans...

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fyeahphilinda, Philinda - Freeform, Secret Valentine's Challenge, Slight spoilers for midseason 2, Spoilers, spoilers based on casting and season 2 midseason finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye is convinced that Coulson forgot May on Valentine's Day, and even despite her current situation manages to spin a plan into which she ropes her two closest S.H.I.E.L.D family members...and best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MelindaTheCavalryMay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelindaTheCavalryMay/gifts).



> Contains spoilers for season two pre and post midseason finale. Based on casting information for the upcoming second half, and on the actual midseason finale events. So don't read on if you haven't seen any of season two or the previews/casting info.

“He's an expert.”

“There are _hundreds_ of experts, Phil. Within S.H.I.E.L.D, scattered around the world in civilian careers. You didn't need to pick _this_ expert.” May placed the manilla folder back on the desk and stared pointedly at Coulson, arms folded against a soft navy sweater. “Andrew isn't exactly the _only_ person familiar with what Skye is going through.”

“But he's the only one I can locate, Melinda. With S.H.I.E.L.D all over the map we're shorter on options than I'd like, and if that means I need to pull out the people we'd rather not see....” Coulson's sigh was heavy, weariness behind it and, May suspected, more visible to her than anyone. She knew how to look for the signs, and what she was seeing didn't please her. “I'm not expecting you to be okay with this, but I  _am_ expecting you to cooperate with him in any way necessary. Whatever he needs- I'm relying on you to make sure he gets it.”

“He'll be working primarily with Simmons.”

“That's true, but you know him better than any of us, Melinda. If Skye needs someone as a go-between, I expect you to be able to give both of them that bridge. She's not going to be comfortable working with someone she doesn't know, not in her current condition.”

“I agree.” She'd admit it, May thought grudgingly, even if she still didn't  _like_ it. The last time she'd seen her ex-husband had been as he threw one leg over the back of his Harley and sped into the evening, not looking back even as she'd brushed sand from between her toes and wandered off of the beach toward their cabin. Renting a cabin on the beach in the Bahamas had been a last ditch attempt to fix something broken, broken long before either of them had even realized it. “All right. But I want it on the record that I-”

“Consider it on.” Signalling the end of the conversation, he turned toward the file cabinet and began fishing for new folders, files that could contain history of S.H.I.E.L.D indexed talents able to guide them toward some answers. Skye was deteriorating- they both knew it, and as May jogged down the stairs toward the medical bay she realized she didn't want to imagine the end that deterioration could eventually lead them to. Skye no longer able to function, and the rest of them standing helplessly by while she fell to pieces.

\---

“What did he get her?” Simmons tilted her head, fingers wrung tightly together as she considered numbers on the screen in relation to Skye's monitor readings, confusion deepening the crease on her brow even as the question began to penetrate the haze surrounding her brain. “Jemma.  _Simmons_ . Hey.”

“What did...what were you saying, Skye?”  _Nothing's different_ , she thought with a sigh, sinking back onto the stool behind her. Days had passed with Skye hooked up to countless machines, attempts to monitor her new...abilities, they'd decided...though little more light had been shed on the changes aside from the fact that emotion caused fluctuation. Fluctuation that had already caused minor destruction, bringing Skye's general mood down to darker depths even as the rest of them struggled to keep her positivity buoyed. 

“May. What did Coulson get her?”

“For?” 

“Valentine's Day. It's February, isn't it?”  _Leave it to Skye to think about something like Valentine's Day when she's in isolation_ . The thought of the overly pink, frosted holiday had once sent Simmons into a spiral of dismay, and while she could remember year after year bent over her books in attempts to get a jump on the upcoming semesters...she admitted to herself that never once had she considered it since leaving the Academy.  _Too much on my mind...too much danger to think about anything positive anymore_ . But Skye  _could_ think of those things, and it cast a warm wash of admiration over Simmons even as she considered Skye carefully. 

“What?”

“You know- I don't think he realizes it.” 

“They've been...god, how  _long_ have they known each other?” Fingers spread before her Skye counted silently, wriggling each digit before glancing at her toes. “ _God_ . What- thirty years? How old is Coulson?”

“I wouldn't ask him that, Skye. And I  _certainly_ would avoid asking Agent May.” She'd always imagined the petite, older woman in her late thirties, and although access to S.H.I.E.L.D medical files made finding the answer to their question relatively easy...Jemma Simmons had strictly avoided the sections labelled 'Birthdate' as if plagued, maintaining her own preference that ignorance to the matter be nursed for as long as possible. “Surely you don't imagine he has time for something like Valentine's Day.”

“If I have to be stuck in here...I'm going to help him find the time.  _Jemma_ \- he can't forget something like that, not with everything that's going on.” The end of her plea was soft, and as Skye pushed herself off of the gurney Jemma wondered if the idea of Coulson forgetting something as minor as Valentine's Day was the straw that might break the fine resolve Skye had managed to shore over the course of the previous days.  _It's hope_ . Valentine's Day held nothing for her, and while it never had Jemma realized she knew little of what it meant to Skye, though by the way her eyes lowered despondently it seemed to hold more meaning than could have been guessed. “May needs it too- just as much as he does.”  
“Skye-”

“When I was with Ward-” A smile broke through the sadness for a moment, and Skye curled her fists together, then slowly unclenching her fingers one by one. “I thought about it for a few minutes, after he kissed me the first time. What it would be like in S.H.I.E.L.D- if he'd get me flowers, or how we'd find a chance to celebrate it when we were both fighting the bad guys. But it made me feel like I had someone who loved me, and it's not  _just_ for one person. It's for family.”

“He may not want to give May a Valentine, you know.”

“If he doesn't want to give May a Valentine, I don't have potentially destructive superhuman powers.” It was as if she hadn't thought of Ward, the sarcasm and a wry smile displacing the mournful expression she'd taken on for a few moments. “You have to do something to help him out- or get me out of here so I can figure it out.”

“There's no way you're getting out of there, Skye. I'm sorry- you know I can't allow it.” She hadn't thought Skye  _really_ wanted that, Jemma realized, as the girl on the other side of the glass beamed at her. “Don't you dare look at me like that. I can't help you.”

“Sure you can.” Her situation seemingly forgotten- or shunted aside, Jemma decided- momentarily, Skye settled back on the gurney again and folded her hands together. “And I'm going to tell you exactly what to do.”

 ---

“I can't believe she talked you into this.”

“She didn't  _talk me into anything_ ,” Jemma hissed, sending silent gratitude to the deity guiding her decision to change from squeaking lab shoes into her favorite ballet flats before they'd- Fitz and herself- begun their entrance into May's basement office. “She merely  _suggested_ it may be helpful for morale should we attempt to encourage synergy between Agent May and Director Coul-”

“She talked you into doing this,” Fitz insisted, accent raspy as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “And she thinks Agent May will fall for it?”

“I don't know. I can't imagine she would, but Skye...you should have seen her face, Fitz. She's perfectly miserable, and I can't say no to something that made her smile.” The hours that Skye had spent laying her plan out were hours Jemma knew could have been spent concentrating on the problem they all faced, but to see the light in her eyes had been enough to let the steady scientist lay down her charts and listen to the ideas presented.  _They weren't half bad, really- leaving imported tea in May's office is certainly a step in the right direction._ As far as anyone knew, May was under the impression that only Coulson knew of her favorite tea, one found in Ecuador...and when Skye had used her one access point to hack S.H.I.E.L.D records she'd uncovered brief mentions from mission logs Coulson had filed in his Academy days. “We're leaving the tea, and May's going to think that Coulson was behind it.”

“And then?”

“And then we leave the Captain America figurine in  _Coulson's_ office. He's going to think May left it there, and they'll meet somewhere in the middle.” Skye hadn't suggested where they'd meet, and as so much of their plan depended on the two senior agents being down for the night, Jemma had made the addendum that they leave that portion of the scheme for later. She'd go back to the isolation ward with Fitz once the second gift was left on Coulson's desk, and the three of them would determine what the final step would be to get Coulson and May in the same room for more than just a mission plan.

“You know, if we had a monkey-”

“Quiet, Fitz.” There was a light under the door- a soft light, pale yellow cutting over the dusty grey concrete lining the basement halls. May had taken the only other available office space, the bottom to Coulson's top, and she'd seemed to prefer the isolation of the lower floors from the day they'd moved her office furniture into place.  _No one should be here now- it's late_ . But someone was, and as Jemma pressed her palm squarely against Fitz's chest, she felt the panicked beat of his heart through the thin cardigan. “Someone's in there.”

“Who else would be up at this hour?” It was nearly two, and as they pushed against the walls desperately trying to fade into the shadows, Jemma caught a faint whiff of something familiar carried along the cool air circulating through the basement level. Old Spice, something her father had worn for a time when he'd become enamoured with all things cologne, cycling through one brand after another in an attempt to find one her mother hadn't vehemently objected to.

“Director Coulson.” What he was doing in May's office she wasn't sure, but the soft shuffle of his feet indicated he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, and with a resigned sigh Jemma grasped the tin of tea close to her own sweater. “We're going to have to go back. I don't think he's leaving for a while, and we can still make it up to his office while he's down here.”

“I don't know how either of you think this is going to  _work_ ,” Fitz muttered as she grasped his hand and pulled him down the hall, doing her best to keep their steps light despite the drive to rush as fast as possible. “Jemma...you're pulling it out of the socket.  _Jemma, stop_ !  _JEMMA.”_

\----

“Did you leave this in my office?” He hadn't heard her, Coulson realized, and as May leaned against the doorframe he chastised himself for wondering _why_.  _Shes been the only person to get the drop on me for as long as I can remember_ . And he couldn't remember a lot of things, before the scepter and the end of life as he'd known it. But the memories flooded back in tiny, frantic flashes, along with them coming those moments May had somehow managed to surprise him. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Catching Simmons and Fitz in the hallway in the early hours of daylight had been something he hadn't expected either, and once he'd managed to wheedle scraps of information from them he'd realized that they'd intended to do what he'd planned all along- find a way to get May into his office on Valentine's Day. He'd succeeded without their help, he thought with a wash of pleasure, and wondered if their planned gift would have had a similar effect on May's stern exterior.  _Doubtful. Fitz wouldn't be able to handle the idea of carrying something like that into May's office, and I can't imagine he'd be able to even put it down gently_ . The young scientists were just that- young- and Coulson couldn't imagine either of them handling something as interesting as what he'd chosen for a gift without blushing well into their hairlines.

_I barely could, when I saw it on the shelf. But thinking about it..._

“You know  _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Phil.” She pushed the door closed with a firm click behind her, stunted heels making firm, decisive sounds as she crossed the office to perch on the edge of his desk. Seductively, he thought, although seductive on Melinda was something far different than seductive on women he'd been with before. Her version was...feral, almost, and as her buffed nails curled around the polished corners he found himself wondering just how feral she'd  _get_ . “When we were in Shanghai I told you in  _confidence_ , and I didn't think you'd ever bring it up again. I was  _sure_ you'd never think about it after that.”

“I couldn't help myself.”

“You couldn't.” As May pulled the delicate swatch of fabric from her pocket, allowing black silk to dangle from her fingertips, a smile curled over her lips. He loved her smile, and even as he'd cornered Fitzsimmons he'd imagined it when she found what he'd left in the tiny white box on her desk. “A blindfold, Phil? I didn't tell you I _liked_ them so you could give me one for Valentine's Day.”

“Why  _did_ you tell me?”

“We thought we weren't being extracted and we thought we were going to die,” She reminded him gently, passing the blindfold from one hand to the next. "You told me that you'd missed your chance with me. If I could forget _that_ , you could have left  _this_ alone.”

“I couldn't. You know that.” Regrets, he mused, were something he'd sworn off the minute bright white lights had filled his vision and he'd come back from the dead. Something he'd sworn to make up for as soon as things got better. But things had gotten worse for a while, and Melinda had still been there. Things had gotten  _better_ , and before he'd known what was happening...he'd had to pull into the fold the one person he'd never thought they'd see again. Her ex-husband, a man he knew full well she'd been madly in love with...before she was anything but. “I didn't want to bring Andrew back, Melinda- you know I didn't.”

“I do,” May didn't do soft, not typically, and as her voice became something he could get lost in, Coulson reached out to tangle his fingers in hers. The silk was soft as it twisted between, and he smiled at the sensation of it. “Phil. I don't love him anymore. I haven't loved him for a long time.”

“But you did,” He argued, “And I couldn't risk missing that chance I missed before. I couldn't have him here without you knowing how  _I_ felt about you- and give you the chance to tell me if you felt the same way.”

“You're an idiot,” May countered, “And you're an even bigger one if you didn't think I told you about the blindfolding because I didn't love you from the moment I met you.” 

“Don't tell me Andrew doesn't know you like being blindfolded?” His free hand crept toward the switch that would activate the internal camera for his office, activating the link between the lab and his inner sanctum even as May slipped playfully into his lap and looped her arms slowly around his neck as the blindfold remained firmly in her fingers. “May.”

“You're the only one who knows.” 

\---

“Holy-”

“Turn it  _off_ , Fitz!” Jemma scrambled for the switch to deactivate the cameras even as Skye shrieked in her enclosure, a loud clap sounding when her palms pressed against her mouth and threatened to smother her. “ _Fitz!”_

“I'm trying! I'm  _trying_ !” May's lips met Coulson's and the trio cheered, groaned, and Jemma reached past Fitz to slam a palm against the console, cameras going dark even as Coulson's fingers began to weave through the cascade of thick, dark brown falling over May's shoulders. “Oh, god. Do you think they know we saw them?”  
“Coulson activated it on his end, Jemma.” Neither Skye nor Simmons had noticed, Fitz realized triumphantly, and as two surprised faces turned his way he managed to school his expression into something more serious. “I'm sure he trusted us to deactivate anything before it went too far.”

“If May's ideal Valentine's Day gift was a blindfold...I don't even  _want_ to know how far 'too far' can be. As it is, I think the image of May and Coulson with their tongues down each other's throats is something I'm  _never_ going to get out of my brain.” The plan, Jemma had to admit as she watched Skye's animated expression of disgust, had worked in a way none of them had expected, in that Coulson had surprised them all by remembering a holiday more important to May than any of them could have guessed.

She'd listen to Skye's ideas regarding the two senior agents more attentively in the future, Jemma promised herself. Because success was important to morale, and if what they'd seen was any indication...morale was up for a boost of mass proportions.

It was a thought that made her blush all the way to her hairline. 


End file.
